His own hands
by Rhinoplasty
Summary: More than a century on, the memories of life before his blood was dashed out against those rocks were as clear as crystal for Haji. He often wondered if Saya recalled what he could. Oneshot. HajiSaya


_A/n: This site hates me, that's all there is to it. D:_

Disclaimer: I do not own Blood+ or these characters.

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More than a century on, the memories of life before his blood was dashed out against those rocks were as clear as crystal for Haji.

He remembered a time of simplicity. Plucking flowers in the warmth of spring, the way he'd catch Saya's radiant smile, the melodious chorus of her cello, whether the music was produced from her hands, or his own.

Even after they had visited what was once their home, Haji often wondered if all of Saya's memories of their life in the Zoo had been recollected.

Particularly on the night she awoke on a sharp intake of breath, writhing in a frenzy of disorientation before clutching the immaculate material of his chest.

"Haji," She had whispered breathlessly, "Touch me."

The words had thrust him back into the past, a time frame before he was aware of Diva's existence, but narrowly close to a time of acquiring the role of a chevalier.

That was one day he remembered well; Saya had shelled herself in a layer of melancholy upon seeing the dismal weather beyond the glass. Without being able to spend their time outside, Haji suggested that they pour themselves into the rich hum of the cello instead, determined to extinguish her sour aura.

The rain ceased when the sun hung low in the sky, and Saya had convinced him that they should have had a fencing spar before dark. She rushed to her quarters to change her attire to something more suitable for the task; Haji trailed close behind and loitered outside her door.

She called out his name after a long silence, the hesitance palpable in her voice when she asked if he could summon one of the servants.

Concerned, he had unconsciously taken a step forward and rested his hand against the wooden door as if contemplating opening it; instead he asked if everything was all right.

Saya had called back about her corset, though she hadn't been able to finish her sentence. And from the other side of the door Haji could hear the strain in her voice.

He pushed open the door without reluctance, watching as the young woman struggled awkwardly with the threading of her corset, clad in only her ruffled pantaloons and the constricting material clinging to her abdomen. He'd seen her dressed similarly on many separate occasions when in the yesteryear, often wondering in his own spare time how Joel would have reacted if he knew of those incidents.

Though, considering the purpose he had formerly been brought to the Zoo, he was sure that Joel would have encouraged those situations, rather than be scolded for them.

When Saya met his gaze over her bare shoulder her delicate features furrowed in irritation. He remembered her snapping half-heartedly as he silently shut the door behind him, something about proper gentlemen summoning servants instead of just entering her room whenever they pleased.

He had asked what she needed evenly, pacing toward her whilst she shot him a defeated look and dropped her hands to her sides. She then had explained thickly that her corset was caught, turning to present the predicament.

Haji had inspected the crisscrossing ropes, and inwardly noted with amusement that she had simply been pulling in the wrong directions. He had seen the way her dress servants dealt with this fastidious task in a brisk, abrupt manner leaving Saya heaving, stumbling back every time they would yank, and virtually suffocating beneath the boned undergarment.

So he tugged at the thin chord effortlessly though gingerly, attempting to spare Saya the harm her usual servant had provided with the tedious task, absently letting his gaze rove across the plane of her naked shoulders.

Thinking back to it now, he hadn't particularly noticed her uncharacteristic quietness when he had finished and turned to give her privacy. He listened intently, expecting her to commence dressing in her fencing ensemble, but after hearing the corset pool to the floor stillness encased her quarters.

He more saw than felt the two arms enclose around his middle, then there was that indescribable warmth of her body pressing into his back, the feeling of her bare breasts flush against him sent his eyes widening and mouth hanging agape.

He had whispered her name almost apprehensively, feeling as she her nose skimmed across his shoulder blades even through his coat.

When the heat disappeared a moment later she was standing right there in front of him. Haji was suddenly all too aware of her topless state, and how easy those ruffled shorts would have been to remove. As she watched him with inquisitive dark eyes, his gaze never wavered from hers, even if the temptation of unseen flesh had been terribly difficult to withstand.

And then somewhere through the silence she had whispered it, demanded it, _Touch me, Haji._

Haji recalled being inwardly thrown for a good solid moment or two wondering if it was actually taking place or his wandering imagination, perhaps one of those dreams that left him with an intolerable ache when he was awoken.

So his hand was tentative when he reached up to cup her soft cheek, his thumb brushing close to her lips in doing so.

_No._ She had practically breathed, remembering the way her hot breath fanned along his neck, unhurriedly plucking his hand from her face and dragging it deliberately over her collarbone to rest flat against the breast beneath. _Touch me here._

The moment hadn't gone much further than that however.

The servant's voice unexpectedly called from the hallway and gave the door handle a rattle. The announcement seemed to hastily awake both of their senses, Haji had already made an exit for the door by the time Saya was reaching for her forgotten clothing.

And the elderly woman gave Haji a startled look upon making his swift exit, he hardly noticed though.

There was no sword sparring that day, he had locked himself inside his quarters for the rest of the evening; even avoiding supper altogether, perched on the edge of his bed and his trousers unbuckled below his hips. That same hand that had touched her still seared, even long after he had relieved himself with it.

For something that had happened close to a century and a half ago, he recalled those events well. Over the decades it would had been difficult to forget _any _moment he shared with his Queen, because he was sure etch every second he spent by her side into the back of his own mind.

And if he could fall into slumber like he was once able to, Haji knew he'd dream of Saya. Whether they'd be the sort of dreams to leave a throbbing between his thighs, or the chaotic nightmares she often had, he knew only she would occupy his mind once he succumbed to sleep.

But Haji wasn't too surprised that she woke tonight in a daze from her nightmare. They were becoming regular occurrences since Riku's demise after all.

She had explained the dreams to him before; vivid nightmares of Diva spilling the blood of innocents, the flesh of her loved ones splintering into red glistening dust. Saya described that she'd never be able to save the lives of anyone in these specific dreams, and he could tell when she was wide awake, the woman was still haunted by their faces.

On this night, he could read easily that she was fearful of reality after she woke with a gasp. When he set down the cello gently, he could see her clutching the crisp sheets through the darkness, probably in an attempt to anchor her self into certainty, obviously disorientated and frightened. Haji found Saya's hand before he finding his own consoling voice.

"Saya, it was just a dream."

His tall form knelt beside her, dipping into the mattress and drawing her closer into the familiarity of his arms and against his broad chest.

"Haji?" She questioned uncertainly, because she probably didn't believe he was right there beside her. The images of her nightmare were in all probability still burnt fresh into her mind. "Where are you?" Her voice sounded frantic, and even if his arms were tightly wound against her quaking body, she was still thrown.

"I'm right here." He soothed as softly as he could possible muster.

He could finally relax when she became silent and her panic gasps reduced to measured breaths.

Haji had only recently, sometime after Riku's death, convinced Saya that it was vital that she fed off blood to survive, _his_ blood. It hadn't been the first time he'd had to sway her during their travels together, but after he'd found her in Okinawa she'd been especially reluctant to drink from his neck.

So when she began fumbling at the buttons of his shirt and tugging the dark cloak, Haji hadn't been particularly fazed. If anything, he was more than contented to accommodate to her needs.

That obligation was his reason of existence, after all. Though, Haji's eternal devotion delved further than just simply the duty of a chevalier.

Her fingers were still trembling, so he aided her by shrugging the material from his shoulder to present his neck. Grasping his lopsided shirt, Saya leaned toward the crook of his neck, and Haji was able to breath in her scent from the closeness.

The feminine, yet subtle aroma of Saya was so familiar to him that it summoned trivial recollections of a life long ago. It seemed peculiar that the woman could still retain her scent for decades on end, and left him fleetingly wonder if he kept a recognisable smell of his own.

He hadn't thought to ask her, but maybe one day he would.

For now though she was leaning in closer to let her lips ghost along his skin, dragging them across the flesh at the underside of his jaw, back to underneath his earlobe.

And this is where Haji immediately stiffened under her actions. He was vastly tempted to question what she was doing, because if she had wanted to drink his blood she would have proceeded hungrily by now.

Her close proximity and lips against his skin was a dangerous blend though. It was always challenging to control his twitching, pleading hands on nights she fed on his blood, to not reach out to her, touch her so possessively and greedily and in ways he had always desired through the decades.

Purposely, he left his arms hanging rigid by his sides and didn't withdraw from the closeness, and he guessed that was when Saya noticed because she let her breathless voice be heard.

"Haji," Her whispers tickled the skin of his earlobe not a moment later, "Touch me."

He hadn't even been able to contain the sharp intake of breath he'd taken once the words had left her tongue. He had never forgotten that day, the day she instructed him to touch her, back in her quarters, back in the Zoo, back in time, and how he _had_. It was something that he thought about in his own private moments - A personal memory that he would never speak of aloud.

The silence that grew in the wake of her words only emphasised that Haji had stopped breathing altogether. And Saya pulled back from his side to seize his gaze through a curtain of raven bangs.

Haji only watched on doubtfully, torn, _curious_. Curious to know if she had remembered that day, curious to know what exactly she wanted of him.

But it was then her expression darkened so suddenly, tears threatening her eyes and the perturbed air dominating her features. The pang of concern hit Haji with the weight of bricks, and only intensified when Saya was clawing at his chest, her fingernails damn near tearing the material.

"Just-" Her clipped voice murmured, bowing her head in attempt to conceal the moisture in her eyes, "I just need to feel _something_."

_Something other than this dull ache, something that will make me forget. _Were her unspoken words to him, and Haji understood.

This had nothing to do with their past at the Zoo. This wasn't Saya's yearning to resume what had been started back at the mansion, and for that Haji felt the guilt rise up for thinking so selfishly.

This was something wholly different, and he accepted and acknowledged it without a single word.

Somehow and through it all, he always _would_ understand her.

And it was the unspoken rule; he would continually serve her wishes, regardless of the request.

Once upon a time, she'd made a request that near broke his heart, but he accepted the excruciating promise. His own hands would take her life at the end of the road.

Hands that were now reaching up, bandaged fingers gingerly grazing her chin before the tears could leak, urging her look back into his gaze.

"Saya-" He had begun, but arms wound tightly around shoulders and lips were claiming his before he spoke further, and he would have reeled back with disbelief if her fingers hadn't already meshed with his ponytail to hold his head still.

And she poured frustration into that kiss, the never-ending burdens of her tainted blood, the sorrow and regret she held over the decades. Haji knew, he could _feel_ it, and he accepted her. Her lips and everything coursing through, slanting against her, deepening the kiss and let his hand explore her dark tresses, luring her deeper into his heat.

"Please touch me." She had whimpered, sounding almost sad when his mouth departed hers to trail down the underside of her jaw.

He paused to watch her silently before letting his hand, the one without the bandaging, come up against her flushed cheek. Running the roughened pad of his thumb alongside those lips, ones he dreadfully wished he could see smile again.

Intentional or not, that action alone rekindled the memory for Saya at that moment.

It was evident with the sudden jolt in her body and widening eyes she had recollected the earthy smell of rain that had lingered in the mansion that day, and how his natural talent in learning Bach had been grating on her nerves. – The Saya he recalled in those days had never concealed her frustration well, that day was evidently no exception.

Obvious, from her glazed over expression, she could remember what had happened in her room on that evening. Her lack of undergarments and the forbidden touch because she hadn't been looking at him at that moment, but rather _through_ him.

Saya seemed to relax after a moment of stillness, her shoulders drooping as if the tension had been expelled from them, even if she wasn't looking him in the eye now.

But she acted so leisurely in pace when she pulled her arms out of the lavender top, letting the silken material pool at her stomach.

"You're not blushing like you did that day." She had spoken lowly when her eyes met his through the shadows, whatever disturbed emotions that were plaguing her when she had awoken evidently gone.

"I'm not young like I was back in that time." Was his immediate reply, his eyes trained on hers, gaze not faltering once as she dragged his hand down herself in the same manner she had done once at the Zoo. With purpose, from her lip, letting his hand lightly brush over her neck and stilling across her elegant hollowed collarbone.

With her mouth dangerously close to his, he was able to feel her breath blow across his face when she questioned, "Then why are you still hesitant to touch me?"

Because he wanted her to say it, to be commanded by her words and to fulfil her wishes, to know she wanted this as much as he had longed for it.

"Touch me here," She scarcely breathed as his lips ghosted over hers, mimicking the words she had spoken nearly a century before. Haji was further than willing to undertake, feeling the soft mound of her breast beneath his hand, taken aback to find the heartbeat underneath was beating as quickly as his own.

There was no unexpected doorknob jiggling this time, Haji was immensely thankful for it.

And neither of them spoke further after that only because they didn't need to. Haji's hands spoke for both of them; he admired the contrast between his hands against her naked skin. The exposed flesh preserved the warmth beneath his fingertips, whereas the bandaged fingers left goose bumps across her body in their wake.

Even when undressing her, Haji made sure to never let his artic gaze never leave hers, and if it had, it was only because he couldn't hold her expression from where his lips met the curve of her neck, nor when his tongue met the apex of her thighs.

He desperately wanted to take his time with her, to discover every unexplored contour and plane of her being and memorize the way her legs would intertwine with his when he bought her close to the edge with merely his touch. But she was impatient, urgent for abandonment. Small hands, calloused by the hilt of her sword, roved underneath his shirt, jerking his clothes off with sharp tugs, as though she'd forgotten how to undo buttons through a haze of lust.

A streetlight flickered beyond the apartment window, and Saya watched Haji with smouldering eyes comparable to those he had seen in Vietnam. But he could see behind those orbs that she was feeling so much in that moment he was above her, between her knees.

The detest Saya harboured for Diva never left, even when he was fumbling to unbuckle what was left of his clothing between them, he knew.

He had wanted to watch her when he finally pushed inside, but to see her face stricken in a mixture of awe and bliss was far too much to bear for Haji. His inexperience caught the best of him and left the chevalier to raise his head to the side in attempt to distract himself from the unavoidable. But even when he couldn't see her, the sound of her pleasured breathes resonated in the small apartment, easily audible over the thrumming heart in his ears.

It was apparent that she felt no pain when she breathed him in, and for that he was thoroughly relieved. He wasn't rough by any means, this was her first after all, but there was purpose with every movement, forceful enough to leave Saya gasping with every thrust and springs of the bed whining.

Outside the window he could see the lights of London painting the buildings, infiltrating through the curtains and splashing against the polished floor beside the bed. But the city lights were so meaningless at that moment because the slick warmth of Saya's naked flesh against his was almost overwhelming.

His usual blue ribbon had been lost between sheets, now that her fingers meshed in between the locks that spilled over his naked shoulders; it had hardly mattered to him though.

Because nothing mattered in that instant except the arching woman beneath him, panting his name, and pawing at anything she could hold onto, imploring him to give her more in such a way that left Haji gritting his teeth and choking back a noise caught in his throat.

There was no Diva in that moment when Saya began to quiver, or chiropterans to be hunted.

The remnants of the Red Shield weren't on their tail, and the burdens of the ones they had lost over time weren't hanging over their heads like an ominous rain cloud.

It was when Saya began to close around him that Haji found that blissful moment of everything, yet nothing, suspended in time.

Lights danced beneath his closed eyelids, and he was sure they weren't from city lights penetrating the curtains.

She was clawing at his skin then, leaving crimson scratches and bruises that would probably heal before they even threatened to reach the surface. He was surely having the same impression on where he held her thigh but he couldn't tell for sure at that time, he was too close.

Inside she was hot, pulsating, and those noises she had been emitting only escalated. It led pleasure rushing through his veins like a poison, leaving Haji move erratically and groaning against her neck, his own fingers intertwining with the locks at her nape to draw her closer into his fever.

And then it was all over too soon, he knew it would be; the euphoria seemed to ebb away as the chevalier slumped onto his Queen. No words were exchanged; just the noise of their laboured breathing was heard across the room, through the night.

Not long after, Saya's breaths had completely evened out, her body still beneath him slackened as she fell to sleep. He leaned on his elbows to watch her for a long moment, admiring the contrast between dark lashes fluttering along her ivory cheeks; she looked beautiful asleep and now at peace.

He was too aware her long sleep would be imminent soon enough though; it was only mere months away. He tried to banish the thoughts from his mind because they troubled him to no end. It was getting increasingly depressing to wish her a goodbye every time her long sleep would loom, and the solitary of the years without his Queen were starting to weigh heavy on Haji.

Unlike Saya, he knew sleep wouldn't claim him but he rested his head against her chest anyway, evading the thoughts of their inevitable departure and hearing the steady thumping beneath his ear.

Listening, he knew he'd be the one to still that heartbeat when the time came; it had been his promise to her.

But Haji never realised _he_ would be the one to go against her wishes, to prolong Saya's life with a confession of his love and the desire to see her smile again.

In the end of it all, he would be the one to pry that sword from her grip and beg for her life with his own hands.

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_A/n: Hope you enjoyed. :D Review if you want. _


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